Tightrope
by bionic4ever
Summary: Tig1: Jaime has to ignore her dislike of heights and become a tightrope walker, for the good of her country.
1. Chapter 1

**Tightrope**

Chapter One

"_You want me to WHAT_?" Jaime asked incredulously. "Oscar, have you lost every single one of your brain cells?"

Steve grinned. "I think you'll make a darn cute tightrope walker."

"Don't help. Besides, you just wanna see me in one of those teeny little skirts."

"Well, yeah, but -"

Jaime smiled at him, but her words were serious. "So..._don't help_." She looked at her boss, who immediately stifled his own smile. "Aside from the fact that heights are not on my list of 10,000 favorite things, I have no clue how to walk across a thread-sized rope without breaking my neck!"

"You'll have a net," Steve said lightly, before losing his own smile as well, with one single fleeting glare from Jaime. "Sorry."

Oscar tried to be reassuring. "Babe, I've arranged for you to be trained by one of the biggest stars in the business."

"What - one whole lesson? You already told me I'm leaving tomorrow." She didn't give him a chance to answer. "Oscar, I have never turned down a mission; you tell me where I'm needed and I'm always there. But I really, seriously _don't want to do this_! I don't think I _can_ do it!" Jaime looked to Steve for support, but he'd slipped quietly from the room.

Oscar sighed. He'd never had to force her into an assignment before. "Jaime, the President himself called me on this, and he specifically asked me to send you. This job is crucial in maintaining U.S./Soviet relations, and only someone with your special skills - in particular, your hearing - can pull it off."

"How 'bout if I do something a little less risky, like stick my head in a lion's mouth or fly out of a cannon?"

"Miss Lucretia - call her Lucy - will meet you in Hangar Four at Andrews in an hour. I think you'll feel a lot better about this once you see it isn't as difficult as you think. Do you have any questions?"

"No," Jaime replied sullenly.

"You probably won't have to be there very long," Oscar said, trying to make it a little easier. "Just find out who's been buying and selling our government secrets all along the circus route, and you'll be out of there."

"Do I wanna know why there's an opening for a tightrope walker, in the first place?"

"Aahh...no."

"I have no choice here, do I?"

"You'll be fine, Jaime. I'm not worried in the least," he lied.

"That makes one of us," she muttered, on her way out the door.

------

A very pleasant woman in her early fifties met Jaime inside Hanger Four. "Jaime? Hi. I'm Lucretia, but call me that and I likely won't answer, since everyone calls me Lucy." Behind her were a series of three ropes strung at different heights. The first was merely inches from the floor, the second, about 30 feet up, and the third was standard circus height with a net underneath it. She saw Jaime's wide-eyed, fearful glances at the ropes and smiled warmly. "It's nowhere near as difficult as it appears. You'll do fine."

Jaime smiled back, but her voice was shaky. "I'm...not real fond of heights."

"Depending how strong your arms are, we can make it virtually impossible for you to fall."

This, Jaime liked. "Really? I've got some pretty serious muscles, and I like that thought a lot."

"First, I'll show you the basics, and we'll go from there, ok?" Lucy moved to the lowest "wire" - actually a tautly-stretched rope, about 1/2-inch in diameter. "Think of the rope as an axis, and your own center of mass has the potential to rotate around this axis," she explained, making a circle in the air with her hand.

"It's the lower half of that rotation that scares the hell outta me," Jaime noted.

"That's why your objective is to keep your center of mass - some people call it center of gravity - directly above the wire. If you fail, you will have a split second or two to correct your position as your body begins to rotate, before a fall would occur." She kept on smiling. "Why don't you try stepping onto this one, just to try it out?"

"Guess I can't break my neck from three inches up, right?" Jaime put one tentative foot onto the rope and, as she lifted the other foot, lost her balance and stumbled.

"Start from the platform at the end of the rope," Lucy told her, "that way you'll be stepping out, instead of up."

Jaime did as instructed and managed about three steps before her feet re-joined the floor. Lucy picked up a very long, floppy metal tube from its resting spot and handed it to Jaime. "This is a balancing pole. Carrying it lowers your center of gravity, giving you more time to adjust a faulty position. The ends can be weighted, lowering that center even further. In fact, with enough weight on the ends, the center of mass moves below the height of the rope and it is next to impossible for you to fall."

"Now that, I like," Jaime exclaimed.

"Try it with just the pole first. I think you'll find it much easier than before," Lucy instructed.

To Jaime's amazement, she made it all the way across the low rope. "I did it!"

"Very good; now try walking halfway out and turning back in the other direction. Then we'll move to the next rope."

"Oh, joy."

------

When Jaime finally left Hanger Four, hours later, Steve was waiting for her. "Hey, Pretty Lady - need a ride?"

"I was gonna run home, to try and get rid of some of this tension, but since you're offering," she said, sinking gratefully into his embrace, "I'm all yours."

"All mine, huh?" Steve grinned wickedly. "Now _that_ puts some interesting ideas in my head!"

"I don't have the little skirt yet; not 'til I get there."

"Damn."

------


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Steve drove Jaime back to Andrews the next morning and watched her plane take off, waving until it was no longer in sight. He thought about their hug goodbye, with Jaime holding on tighter and longer than normal. The previous night, when they made love, she had clung to him much more than usual as well, and Steve was worried. Jaime was often a little nervous before a mission, but he'd never seen her _afraid_ to go. He did what she'd wanted to do the day before, and ran the diameter of the Base, trying to rid himself of the tension, but instead found himself growing more concerned by the minute. He decided to pay Oscar a visit.

Oscar was worried, too; Steve could tell by the dense cloud of cigar smoke that filled the office. "Thought you gave that up," Steve noted, in a lighter tone than he actually felt.

"Yeah, well, it was this or get falling-down drunk," Oscar replied. "Since it's not even noon, I figured cigars were the better choice."

"You're worried about her, too."

"Lucretia says she caught on fairly quickly; she was practically dancing on that highwire before they were done..."

Steve wasn't fooled. "You _are_ worried." He helped himself to one of Oscar's cigars. "I've never seen her truly scared of an assignment before."

"I know." Oscar's eye began to brighten with a sudden inspiration. "Say, Pal, how would you feel about joining a circus?"

------

Jaime looked around the tiny trailer that was her new, temporary home. The single bed was missing a couple of springs, but the bedding was clean. The three-drawer dresser had bent wire substituting for two of the drawer pulls and a crack down one side, and the closet was barely big enough for one person to stand in. She was relieved to see she had her own bathroom, as many of the trailers apparently did not. Jaime pulled back the covers on the bed, intending to lie down for a little while before checking out the highwire set-up. In the center of the bed, she found a circus poster, turned upside-down, with giant, blood-red letters on the back: **GET OUT**.

_Nice way to make the newbie feel welcome,_ she thought to herself, deciding she didn't need a nap, after all. She folded the poster as small as possible and stuffed it into one of her bags, then headed out to find the gaffer.

She found him in the center of Ring One, supervising as an elephant was put through its paces. He nodded at her, and while she waited for him to finish, she tuned her ear to the various sounds all around her. Nothing about notes or threats, just the growling of a tiger and two roustabouts commenting about the build of the newbie. Jaime rolled her eyes, and smiled at the gaffer as he finally made his way toward her.

"You must be Jana," he said, shaking her hand. "I'm Lou, friend of many, confidante of a few, and gaffer-to-the-stars. Welcome."

"Thank you." She looked up toward the top of the tent. The rigging for her 'act' seemed even higher here than it was in the hanger.

"We're dark today - no show - so you'll have a little time to practice and get used to us. How does the rigging look, compared to what you had at Ringling?"

Jaime shrugged. "After awhile, a wire's a wire."

"Your pole is in a rack by the back door. Take all the practice time you need. And again, welcome."

"Thanks."

Jaime took her time inspecting the rigging that would raise her to the wire, high in the air over the center ring. She tried not to picture the harness she'd worn the day of her skydiving accident, because she couldn't let herself start thinking about that day or she'd be too spooked to go through with the wire walking. When she was satisfied it was sturdy and sound, she put it on and gave a nod to the man who would control her ascent.

Once up on the platform, she had a very brief attack of nerves - was the rope in the hanger this thin? - then stepped out, realized she really was ok, and began to have fun with it. She took a few steps out, turned and walked back, then stepped out again, pirouetted in a full circle and headed for the other platform. Jaime stepped onto the thin wooden planks and began to shake with fear, but it wasn't a fear of heights. Taped to the rail of the second platform was another note: **YOU WILL DIE.**

------

Jaime debated showing the note to Lou; after all, he was the man in charge, but she knew he could also possibly be the one behind the threats. For now, everyone was a suspect. She was on her own. She folded the note until it fit in the palm of her hand, then gave the signal to be lowered back to the floor. As Jaime left the tent and headed back toward her trailer she wished with her whole heart that she'd told Oscar 'no' (like anyone could actually do that!) and never have had to come here.

She was just steps from her trailer when she was stopped by a very rude 'pinch' on her backside. Undercover or not, someone was looking to get _hurt_! She whirled around, steaming mad, and saw a clown in full make-up, with a very familiar grin.

"Hey, Lady, wanna clown around?"

Now Jaime smiled, too. "Steve?" she whispered. "What the hell?" She took a fast glance around, and no one was paying them any attention, so she quickly pushed him into her trailer and shut the door.

"God, it is so good to see you!" Jaime said, melting into his arms and smearing clown make-up on her forehead. She opened her hand and showed Steve the note. "Someone knows who I am. There was another one, too. It said 'get out'."

"Have you called Oscar?"

"I haven't been able to find a phone in this hellhole, but -" she abruptly stopped talking, listening intently to something. "Steve, get out!" she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him with her as she dove out the door of the trailer. There was a loud popping sound, and smoke poured out the window of the trailer. When nothing more happened, Jaime and her clown cautiously went back inside to check out the damage.

It had only been a large smoke bomb, the sizzle of its wick sounding very much like a ticking bomb. Steve spotted the paper first, grabbing it off the top of the dresser. "Jaime..." They stared at the new note together. This one read: **THE NEXT ONE IS THE REAL THING.**

------


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jaime and Steve were still looking at the note when there was a loud, insistent knock on the trailer door. "Jana, it's Lou. Are you alright?" Jaime opened the door and Lou stood in the doorway, fanning at the smoke. "I'm so sorry, Dear," the gaffer said. "Not exactly a warm welcome for your first day, was it?" He looked questioningly at Steve.

"I was walking past when it went off," Steve said quickly. "Just making sure she's ok."

"Your group is rehearsing soon; you'd better get back to the Alley," Lou told him.

Steve looked directly into Jaime's eyes. "Sure you're ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks again, um..."

"Boffo."

Jaime stifled her laugh the best she could. _Boffo?_ "Thank you, Boffo." Once she was alone with Lou, Jaime decided to take a leap of faith. She handed Lou note number three. "This was on the dresser."

Lou looked at it closely and shook his head. "Melina."

"What?"

"Melina wrote this. She's just a kid - I'm sure she meant no harm. Let's find you a new trailer, then we'll have a chat with Melina."

"I like my trailer," Jaime insisted. "Besides, I don't scare off that easily. Tell me about Melina. How old is she? Should we talk to her parents instead?"

"If the Feds ever come poking around, she's 19. She's Soviet - half of our performers are - but, well, the government would probably still take a dim view -"

"How old is she really?"

"Fifteen," Lou replied.

"Fifteen? Her parents allow her to -"

"Ain't got parents. Guess I'm the closest thing."

"What happened to them?"

"They were both full-blooded circus - you know, sawdust in the veins - and Melina grew up under the Big Top. Her parents helped arrange the first tour of the U.S./Soviet Cooperative Circus. Unfortunately, they had an ulterior motive; they were planning to become Americans."

"They defected?" Jaime asked.

"They tried. Her father was killed, possibly by the KGB, but we don't really know. Her mother...your guess is as good as mine."

"Huh?"

"She disappeared - POOF! Never returned to her homeland, never became an American."

"And Melina?" Jaime inquired.

"She was - still is - alone. We've allowed her to stay with us, found work for her and protected her from nosy Feds, because who knows what would happen to her if she was sent home?"  
"Poor kid..."

"She really is a sweet little thing. That's her handwriting on your note, but I'm sure her intentions weren't as bad as they sound. Probably a bad practical joke. I'll go and get her."

"Lou?" Jaime said carefully. "Could I, maybe, talk to her alone? I mean, you being her boss and a surrogate parent..."

"Yeah, ok. I'll find her for you."

"Thanks, Lou."

------

Ten minutes later, Lou returned, dragging a frightened-looking young girl by her arm. Jaime saw them coming and opened the door. "I see the smoke has cleared," Lou noted. "Jana, this is Melina. I'm betting you two have a few things to talk about. Let me know if she gives you any trouble."

Jaime inwardly wondered, if Melina was such a 'sweet little thing', why was Lou treating her like a wanted felon? "Hi, Melina, come on in," she told the girl, closing the door behind her.

The girl immediately began to stammer. "I - I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to cause trouble...I'm really sorry."

Jaime held out all three notes. "You wrote these?" she asked.

Melina nodded. "But they weren't - I mean, I didn't - I'm sorry." She hung her head as tears formed in her huge, green eyes. "I was trying to find my mother."

"Sweetie, how would writing threatening notes help you do that?"

"Lou told me if they didn't find another wire walker, he'd let me give it a try. I'm not too crazy about highwires, but I thought maybe if my mother saw me on the playbill as a wirewalker, she'd think it was too dangerous, and she'd come out, to try and stop me."

"What do you mean, 'come out'? Melina, do you know where she is?"

"She's here."

"Excuse me?"

"She's either traveling with us, with the circus, hidden somehow, or she's following behind, but she's close; I can feel her."

"Sweetie," Jaime said gently, "I know you'd like to believe that -"

"It's true! It is!"

"From what Lou told me, your mom is probably hiding somewhere, from the Russian Police. Or -" She stopped herself from telling the child that it was likely her mother was dead.

"Lou thinks she's dead, too," Melina said softly. "But I'm gonna find her some day! I will!"

"I'd love to see that happen," Jaime told her. "In fact, maybe I can help you look for her. But you have to promise me something -"

"No more notes. I promise."

------

Steve snuck back to Jaime's trailer after most of the circus had turned out its lights and gone to sleep. "So we know who wrote the notes, and we're no closer to what we came here to do," Steve summarized.

"Yeah. And I'm in love with a clown named Boffo."

"Very funny."

"Steve, what do you think of Lou?"

"He's got a pretty good handle on this place. Good source of info. Probably not the brightest crayon in the box, but this _is_ the circus."

"Do you trust him?" Jaime asked.

"About as much as I trust anyone else here. But yeah, I think he's clean. Don't you?"

"I'm trying not to be skeptical, but he seems a little too accomodating."

"Maybe he likes you - _really_ likes you..."

"Try again, Boffo. He's that friendly to everybody. Except Melina. He treated her like some kind of criminal."

"She didn't exactly welcome you with open arms."

"She's a kid, Steve, a very young, very frightened kid. I swear she's scared of her own shadow in the sawdust. I'd love to be able to find her mom for her."

"Would be nice, but remember we're already here for a reason, and that's what we have to concentrate on." Steve got up, kissed Jaime very softly and headed out the door. "See ya under the Big Top."

------


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The next morning, Jaime was returning to her trailer after breakfast - which was surprisingly not bad for a portable kitchen - when she sensed, rather than heard, the soft, hesitant footsteps behind her. She turned and smiled. "Hi, Melina," she said to the very shy child who'd been following behind her.

"Good morning. Could - can I...talk to you?"

"Of course, Sweetie," she answered, opening her trailer door. "C'mon in."

"You - you're really nice, Jana. And I - I'm sorry. I lied to you yesterday. My mom - she's not...she's not really missing. She's dead."

"Oh, Melina, I'm so sorry. Do you wanna tell me about it?"

"She jumped off a bridge, the night my father was killed. I - I tried to stop her, but I just couldn't. I wanted to jump in with her, but, well, I didn't have the courage. You - you're the only one I've told this to. Lou doesn't even know."

"Why? I'm sure he'd help you; he's helped you so far, hasn't he?"

"I am afraid if he knew I had no parents, I would have to go home, to the orphanage in Russia. I - I would die there, Jana. It's such an awful place. I should've jumped when she did!"

"No, Sweetie, don't say that. Don't even think it," Jaime said, holding the girl's hand. "There has to be another option. I'll look into it for you, ok?"

Melina nodded, her eyes wide. "You are so kind. Thank you."

------

Jaime found Lou, as usual, under the Big Top. This time, he was watching the cats and their handlers practicing together. "Daisy seems extra cranky today," he noted. Let's pull her out, give her the day off. Don't want anyone getting hurt. Jana! Hi - what can I do for you?"

"Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course. Let's go up in the seats." They chose a spot on the upper edge of the more expensive, comfortable seats. "Ready for your big debut?" he asked.

"I'm so excited. Been grounded too long. I've really missed it." She tried to sound as though she didn't dread it more than having all her teeth removed without anesthesia. "Lou, I was wondering, did you know Melina's parents?"

"Not personally, no. Her father was killed six months ago, in March, and I got here the end of April. Melina claims her mother is still hiding somewhere in the circus, but I really doubt it."

"Yeah," Jaime agreed, "you know every inch of this operation, don't you?"

"Yup. If she was here, I'd know it."

"Do you suppose she could be dead?"

Lou shrugged. "I've wondered that myself, but I guess we'll never know."

"She just seems so sad. I wish it was possible to give her some kind of closure."

"Yeah, well, she's got a family here, with us," Lou replied. "So at least she's not all alone in the world. Oh - one of the roustabouts has your costume for ya - he'll hang it on the doorknob of your trailer."

"Thanks, Lou."

------

Boffo the Clown was admiring the costume when Jaime returned to her trailer. "Put your eyeballs back in your head, Boffo," she said lightly.

"You should try it on, you know - make sure it fits."

"I'm sure it fits fine. And you are incorrigible."

"Proud of it, too. Listen, a bunch of us are heading into town to drum up business. You need anything?"

"No thanks."

"Anything you want me to tell Oscar?" he said, more softly.

"Tell him I can't wait to see him again, to thank him for this wonderful opportunity."

------

Jaime decided to return to the tent for one more practice session. Her mechanic, the one who would raise her to the platform once she was in a harness, wasn't there, but Lou stepped forward. "Need a lift?"

"Thanks. Thought I'd get in a little extra wire time, just for fun."

"Well, go ahead and get in the harness; I'll help ya out."

"Hey - is it ok if I leave my pole up there on the platform?"

"That's your wire; you do whatever makes you feel comfortable."

"Cool. Thanks."

Once she was up on the platform, Jaime noticed she was much less nervous than she'd been in previous sessions. She did a little hop-skip onto the wire, turned 360 degrees and actually felt brave enough to let her feet leave the wire and jump, just slightly, into the air. _Damn, I'm good at this_, she thought to herself, jumping again and turning halfway before landing back on the wire. _This is kinda fun_!

Down in rings one and three, the clowns were rehearsing and she saw Steve looking up, watching her, so she gave him a wink and did her little jump-turn once more. "I'm impressed," he whispered to her. "Just don't get so cocky that you break your neck."

_Don't worry,_ she answered, in her head, _I've actually grown attached to it over the years._

------

Figuring that turnabout was fair play, once she was down from the wire, Jaime took a seat to watch the clown troupe going through its paces. Boffo pulled a balloon from his front pocket, blew it up and twisted it into something that almost resembled a flower, then bowed gallantly and handed it to Jaime, who blew him a kiss and left the tent smiling.

------


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Get that elephant into the backdoor line-up right now! Lily, where's your costume? Doors open in half an hour. Move it, people!" Lou was in full gaffer mode. "Jana - you find your costume ok?"

"Yeah," Jaime answered.

"You need to be _in_ it, Dear. You're first, right after the opening march."

Jaime ran off to her trailer and was about to throw on her costume when someone stepped out of her bathroom. She nearly screamed, but saw a familiar clown's face, grinning at her. "Don't stop on my account," he told her.

"You just scared me half to death!"

"Sorry. It's my only chance to talk to you before the show starts." His grin faded. "I talked to Oscar this morning, while we were doing a walkabout, and -"

"A what?

"Never mind. I have to make this quick; I'm supposed to be in line-up already," Steve told her. "Oscar had a visit from Jack Hansen this morning. Seems the NSB has its own operative here."

"Who is it?"

"Hansen wasn't feeling cooperative, I guess. We don't know."

"Great. Are they working _with_ us or against us?"

"Don't know that, either. Obviously not 'with', since Hansen's choosing not to share. But against? Couldn't tell ya. Just...be careful, Sweetheart."

"You too, Boffo."

------

The clown troupe paraded its way around the Big Top and through the audience, stopping in the center ring to do a few somersaults on the wirewalker's net. Steve was last in line, and as he bounced off the springy ropes, he noticed the edges on one side were almost completely unraveled. If someone were to hit it hard (from up in the air, maybe?) there was no way it would hold. He focused his eye up into the darkness near the ceiling, where Jaime stood on the tiny platform, ready to begin her act. He scanned the wire carefully, not caring at that point if he was being obvious or not. When he caught sight of the far end of the wire, his stomach began doing its own backflips and somersaults.

He stepped off to one side, completely out of the troupe (_so fire me, Lou_, he thought); she was due to start in just minutes. "Jaime," he said, very softly, "if you can hear me, touch your ponytail." Nothing. She didn't move. The crowd and the music were too loud. _Damn_!

Thinking quickly, Steve stepped over to the ringmaster's podium. "You need to cut Jana's act," he insisted. "Call out the cats instead."

The ringmaster frowned. "Lou'll have my head on a stake."

"I don't give a damn. Her rigging's torn. Unless you wanna see a wirewalker pancake, call in the next act. I'll deal with Lou."

The ringmaster made a face, but got on his radio to let the lighting crew and the cats' handlers know about the program change. Jaime stood, poised and ready, still in her harness until the act started. Steve ran to the mechanic who controlled her lift. "Bring her down," he ordered.

"What the -?"

"_Bring her down - **now**_!"

"I can't just -"

"Well, I can." Steve yanked the rope from the mechanic's hands and started Jaime's descent. At first, she looked frightened, but about halfway down she saw Steve and fear turned to confusion. "Now can you hear me?" Steve whispered as Jaime was slowly lowered to terra firma. This time, she nodded. "Your wire's been cut. We're outta here - Oscar's orders. Meet me at the back gate in 10 minutes." He walked back to where the extremely puzzled mechanic stood, and handed him the rope. "She's all yours," Steve told him, as he ran from the tent.

------

Jaime ducked around the back of the huge tent, taking a shortcut to the back gate. She'd chosen not to stop at her trailer; nothing in there seemed important at the moment. She was almost there - she could actually see Steve - when a hand roughly covered her mouth, jerking her backward with the strength of its force, and another hand snaked around her and punched her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her so she couldn't scream.

"You make one sound, attract attention in any way, and you're dead. Get it?" the voice behind her snarled. Jaime nodded. The hand that had covered her mouth now pressed the cold steel of a gun barrel into her back, while the other arm propelled her toward a small, unused supply trailer. Once they were both inside with the door firmly closed, Jaime was shoved into a chair, where she was face-to-face not only with the gun barrel, but also with her captor.

"Lou? What the hell -?"

"Shut up! I ask the questions." Lou stood directly in front of her, cocked the gun and pressed the barrel to her forehead. "Who are you really?"

"I'm Jana Wasch -" she wasn't allowed to finish.

"Don't lie to me!" Lou shouted, pushing the barrel hard against Jaime's head, hurting her. "The real Jana was never with Ringling. _Who are you_? FBI? NSB? You will tell me or you will die."

"Who are _you_?" Jaime asked defiantly.

"I have neither the time or the patience for stupid American guessing games."

_I guess that means he's not our NSB guy,_ Jaime deduced. She wondered if Steve's ten minutes were up yet. _This would be the ideal time to come looking for me, Austin..._

"I'll make you a deal," Jaime said, trying to stall for time, "you tell me who you are, and I promise I'll tell you anything you wanna know about me."

"I make NO deals! You will not talk? That is your choice?"

Jaime stared at him in silence.

"I'm afraid you are out of time," Lou snarled. "Get up." Jaime didn't move. Lou grabbed her, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulders, yanked her from the chair and forced her to the floor, facing the wall.

Jaime heard the gun firing, but felt no pain, and didn't fall. _Am I already dead?_ She wondered? _Wow...that was fast!_

------


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Steve, on full alert at the sound of the gunshot, went running toward the little trailer. The door was wide open and, his heart in his throat and pounding wildly, Steve looked inside. Lou was lying on the floor, a gun still in his hand and one clean bullet hole in the back of his head. There was no blood; he had died instantly. Jaime, with a bruise and the beginning of a goose-egg on her forehead but otherwise unharmed, turned around, stunned, as unaware as Steve was of what had just happened.

Standing over Lou, with the gun still in her hand and looking not the least bit shy or afraid was..._Melina_.

"Am I dead?" Jaime asked, rising to her feet. Steve was instantly there, to keep her steady.

Melina looked down at Lou. "No, but he is - the creep." She looked at Jaime and Steve, quite a pair in a wirewalker's outfit and a clown suit. "Jaime, Steve...I'm sorry I had to lie to you, especially since I knew who both of you were, all along. My real name is Charlotte Brown, and I'm with the NSB."

"I'm taking a stab in the dark here," Steve said, "but I'm guessing you're not fifteen."

"Twenty-two. Lou's been a very bad boy, using the circus to sneak terrorists and spies into the country and selling whatever loose information he could pick up along the way. Once we realized what he was doing, we started sending out false intell, to trip him up and make him give himself away. He might or might not have gotten a death sentence had he gone to trial, but he took care of that detail all by himself; saved us the time and expense. Wasn't that considerate?" She beamed at Steve and Jaime.

"Thank you," Jaime told her, very quietly, still in shock and not quite sure she was alive. "You've got excellent timing."

"I'm just sorry I had to lie to you."

"Well," Steve said, "you are definitely good; you had us fooled, and we don't bluff easily. But - what about the notes?"

"I did write the notes. I was hoping to scare you out of here, out of the NSB's case before something happened."

"Something like today?" Steve concluded.

"Exactly. I didn't have quite enough yet to put him away, but it turned out to our advantage that you were here. What he did today clinched our case." She looked down at the body once more. "And ended it."

------

"Ok," Charlotte called out, "Big smiles!" Jaime and Steve, still in circus outfits, posed for a picture in front of the Big Top before heading for home. "Perfect. Now one for me." Snap! "Thanks!"

"Hang on," Steve said, grinning wickedly, "one more." He pulled Jaime into his arms and, clown make-up and all, gave her a long, deep kiss. They both turned around, and Charlotte snapped the picture.

One week later, Oscar had a new 8 X 10 picture framed and hanging behind his desk: an extremely happy clown, and a tightrope walker, wearing her leotard and a little-bitty tutu skirt, with white and red greasepaint all over her face.

END


End file.
